but already the soil awakes:
fully formed daffodils wave,
sun burning gold into the woods.
The almond tree blossom has bloomed,
white petals dancing to the ground below
when winter grass should don a coat of snow
yet it is the robin I admire the most,
its head moving swiftly to and fro
displaying a rotund rusty breast.
People relax outside a country pub
with the grim storms quite forgotten.
I watch the robin as it flickers away
in a balmy breeze...that belongs to May.